Last week, as Nike unveiled its Spring ’26 NikeSKIMS collection with BLACKPINK’s LISA pirouetting through a Parisian ballet studio, another beauty brand was imploding online. Huda Beauty, once the darling of millennial makeup enthusiasts, watched creators across Instagram and TikTok destroy its products on camera, dump them in bins, and demand retailers stop stocking the brand. The trigger? A single Instagram post that Iranian protesters interpreted as supporting the regime. Within days, the boycott had gone global. Huda Kattan’s sister unfollowed her. The damage was instant, visceral, and probably permanent.ndtv+2
The timing is instructive. Whilst Nike’s campaign glides across our feeds with its Mozart soundtrack and soft-focus aesthetics, Huda Beauty’s crisis reveals what happens when the gap between brand signals and reality becomes impossible to ignore. And that gap—between what companies say and what they do, between who they hire to sell products and whether those partnerships make any functional sense—is precisely what’s rotting celebrity endorsement from the inside out.
If you’re a marketer watching budgets tighten and leadership demand proof that your influencer spend actually shifts product, this matters. Because 2026 isn’t just another year of declining engagement metrics and rising costs. It’s the year the entire infrastructure of celebrity marketing stopped working.
The Trust Deficit Nobody’s Fixing
Start with the numbers, because they’re damning. Celebrity-led advertising volumes on television declined in 2025 after a brief uptick the year before. This isn’t about migration to digital—it’s about return on investment under a microscope and advertisers “prioritising fewer but more impactful celebrity associations rather than high-volume exposure”. Translation: brands are losing faith that big names deliver big results.[medianews4u]
“Micro-influencers deliver engagement rates three to five times higher than celebrities, with conversion rates of 3.47% versus 2.02% for macro-influencers, and an average ROI of 184% compared to 129%.”
Meanwhile, micro-influencers—creators with 10,000 to 100,000 followers—deliver engagement rates three to five times higher than celebrities, conversion rates of 3.47% versus 2.02% for macro-influencers, and an average ROI of 184% compared to 129%. The cost per engagement is lower. The authenticity is higher. And critically, 82% of consumers report being highly likely to follow a micro-influencer’s product recommendation, compared to growing skepticism towards celebrity endorsements that “feel transactional and commercially motivated”.postaffiliatepro+1
Why Celebrity Fatigue Is Accelerating
This isn’t a temporary blip. Research shows that as more brands pile into celebrity endorsements, “consumers may become immune to them and start to view them as less authentic and trustworthy”. The effectiveness declines over time precisely because audiences learn to filter out what feels like advertising theatre rather than genuine recommendation.[mbajournals]
Gen Z, who now represent the most scrutinised demographic in marketing strategy documents, have developed what one analysis calls a “radar for deception”. Sixty-eight per cent doubt the reality of online content. They can “spot manufactured content instantly” and will skip it just as fast. For this cohort, trust isn’t earned with authority—it’s earned with authenticity. Creators trump corporations, comment threads outweigh testimonials, and peer reviews matter more than polished campaigns.pulpstrategy+2
So when Nike—a brand whose entire cultural authority rests on athlete credibility—leads a major sportswear campaign with a K-pop entertainer, it’s worth asking whether anyone in the room was paying attention to what consumers actually respond to in 2026.
The NikeSKIMS Problem: Signalling Without Substance
The Spring ’26 campaign is technically accomplished. LISA has legitimate dance credentials: over a decade of training, five years as a YG Entertainment trainee, work as a dance mentor. The choreography, directed by Sergio Reis, showcases genuine movement. Professional ballerinas appear alongside her. The film is beautiful. It will move product. None of this is in dispute.reddit+3
What’s in dispute is whether any of it makes sense as performance sportswear marketing—a question I’ve explored before with Nike’s “Why Do It?” campaign, where purpose-led messaging at least aligned with the brand’s athletic heritage.
“The gap between what brands promise and what they deliver, between the values they signal and the operations they run, becomes visible instantly. And once visible, it’s almost impossible to walk back.”
Nike’s Strategic Contradiction
Nike’s CEO Elliott Hill has staked the company’s turnaround on a “Sport Offense” strategy—refocusing on athletes, innovation, and performance after years of losing market share to Lululemon, Alo Yoga, and Vuori in women’s activewear. The diagnosis was sound: Nike had over-relied on lifestyle franchises and classic products whilst competitors offered women activewear that felt designed for them, rooted in understanding female bodies in motion. The NikeSKIMS partnership was meant to address this, combining Nike’s performance technology with SKIMS’ body-sculpting expertise.warc+6

Yet the Spring ’26 campaign centres not an athlete but a celebrity whose relationship to sportswear is fundamentally aesthetic. LISA wears the collection “from rehearsals to travelling or even relaxing at home”—which is the definition of athleisure, not performance wear. The campaign borrows ballet’s cultural capital (discipline, refinement, feminine strength) without materially supporting the dance community. There’s no partnership with ballet companies, no scholarship fund, no acknowledgement that dancers—chronically underfunded—could have been hired as collaborators rather than decorative background talent.about.nike+3
The Ballet Extraction Problem
This matters because, as professional dancers have noted repeatedly when fashion borrows their aesthetic, it reduces years of gruelling training to mood-board material[31]. Ballet becomes a filter, its signifiers extracted whilst the art form itself remains marginalised. When Kendall Jenner posed en pointe in unbroken shoes for Vogue España in 2016, the backlash was immediate[31]. NikeSKIMS sidesteps the most egregious errors by featuring actual ballerinas, but the underlying logic—borrow the prestige, skip the accountability—persists.
Nike itself demonstrates how to avoid this extractive approach. Less than a week after the NikeSKIMS campaign launched (January 27), the company released its “Wild Planet” campaign for All Conditions Gear (February 2)—a reintroduced outdoor performance line centred on trail running and exploration[165]. The contrast is instructive. ACG features the “All Conditions Racing Department,” a roster of 22+ elite trail runners including Courtney Dauwalter and Jim Walmsley who test prototypes, provide feedback, and help “create the future of trail performance”[165][170]. Nike sponsors independent trail events—Chongli 168 Ultra Trail, Broken Arrow Skyrace, Gorge Waterfalls—and the campaign message (“unplug, get outside and explore”) aligns with the product’s function[165].
In other words: ACG does what NikeSKIMS should have done. It centres athletes, invests in community, and matches messenger to message. Same company, same week, same “Sport Offense” turnaround strategy—completely contradictory execution.
It’s the inverse of what I documented in Maybelline’s Mumbai CGI stunt: where Maybelline superimposed fantasy onto local culture without understanding it, NikeSKIMS extracts cultural capital from ballet without investing in its reality. Nike proved with ACG that it knows better. The choice to do otherwise with NikeSKIMS becomes harder to defend.

“SKIMS received a score of zero out of 150 in the 2024 Remake Fashion Accountability Report—tied with SHEIN as the lowest possible rating.”
The Ethics Void
Then there’s SKIMS’ ethical record, which is less a record than a void. In 2024, the Remake Fashion Accountability Report assigned SKIMS a score of zero out of 150—tied with SHEIN as the lowest possible rating. The report cited “lack of transparency in disclosing labour practices and environmental impact” and credible allegations that garment workers in Bangladesh and Vietnam are paid below living wages.[cosh]
SKIMS’ public statements on ethics are masterpieces of vagueness: committed to “the highest ethical standards” but no supply chain map, no factory audits, no verified labour standards. Kim Kardashian herself has faced accusations from seven former staff members of wage theft, unpaid overtime, and denied meal breaks. None of this has been meaningfully addressed. Neither SKIMS nor Nike has published transparency data for the NikeSKIMS line specifically.eco-stylist+3

The Empowerment Paradox
So the campaign invites consumers to feel empowered—to see themselves as supporting female strength, celebrating artistry, embracing confidence—whilst the women making the products remain invisible and underpaid. The dissonance isn’t accidental. It’s structural.
What Actually Works in 2026
If celebrity endorsements are broken infrastructure, what replaces them? The evidence points to three interlocking shifts that savvy marketers are already implementing.
Operational Authenticity Over Rhetorical Promises
First, authenticity must be operational, not rhetorical. Gen Z expects brands to “show their work”—behind-the-scenes stories, transparent supply chains, honest messaging about how products are made and who makes them. This isn’t about crafting better narratives. Rather, it’s about ensuring the narrative matches reality, because in 2026, that gap is impossible to hide.futuristsspeakers+1
This is precisely what makes Amazon’s “Five Star Theater” campaign so instructive: rather than manufacturing authenticity, Amazon surfaced the genuine, messy, hilarious customer voices already in their review sections. The result? Six times higher brand lift than traditional advertising, because audiences trust peer reviews over polished campaigns.[suchetanabauri]
“Trust has become the scarcest resource in marketing, measured not through quarterly surveys but through continuous streams of text, voice, reviews, and social interactions.”
Brand sentiment is now “a living signal” that feeds into search results, recommendation systems, and purchasing decisions in real time. Trust has become “the scarcest resource in marketing”, and it’s measured not through quarterly surveys but through continuous streams of text, voice, reviews, and social interactions.linkedin+2
The New Trust Indicators
Brands that invest in “genuine expertise, maintaining ethical standards, and earning algorithmic legitimacy will compound advantages over competitors relying on paid visibility”. The metrics that matter have shifted from reach and impressions to trust indicators: citation by AI systems, endorsement by credible communities, consistency between brand promises and behaviours.[onclusive]
Match Messenger to Message
Second, match the messenger to the message. If you’re selling performance sportswear and your turnaround strategy emphasises athletes, don’t lead with celebrities whose primary relationship to movement is entertainment. If you’re borrowing an aesthetic—ballet, streetwear, skate culture—either support the community you’re extracting from or be honest that you’re selling lifestyle wear.
The cognitive dissonance between Nike’s stated commitment to “sport and the athlete” and its choice to centre LISA undermines both the campaign and the broader turnaround narrative. Compare this to Swiggy’s “Wiggy 3.0” campaign, which turned delivery partners—the actual workforce—into stars of the brand narrative. The alignment between messenger and message created authentic employee advocacy that resonated precisely because it was genuine.digiday+2
Ryan Reynolds with Mint Mobile works because the partnership feels organic and aligned with Reynolds’ personal brand. George Clooney with Nespresso works for the same reason. LISA with ballet-inspired athleisure? The connection is purely commercial, and audiences can tell.[taboola]
Micro-Influence Over Macro-Reach
Third, prioritise micro-influence over macro-reach. The data is unequivocal: micro-influencers deliver higher engagement rates (5% to 20% versus 1% to 5% for celebrities), better conversion rates, superior ROI, and crucially, the authenticity that Gen Z and increasingly all demographics demand. They’re perceived as “relatable peers who genuinely use and believe in the products they recommend” rather than celebrities cashing cheques.jmsr-online+1
“Follower counts don’t show up on your P&L. If influencer marketing doesn’t clearly support revenue, pipeline, or measurable brand lift, it’s first on the budget-cutting list.”
This doesn’t mean celebrities are obsolete. Broad reach still matters for certain campaign objectives, particularly awareness in mass markets. But the assumption that celebrity equals credibility no longer holds. “Follower counts don’t show up on your P&L”, and leadership wants proof—not screenshots of “great engagement.” When influencer marketing doesn’t clearly support revenue, pipeline, or measurable brand lift, it’s first on the budget-cutting list.[linkedin]

The Metabolism Problem
What makes all of this particularly urgent is pace. The Huda Beauty boycott went from Instagram post to global crisis in under 72 hours. Bud Light’s Dylan Mulvaney partnership erased $4 billion in value and the brand still hasn’t recovered a year later. In 2026, “the pace of culture has outstripped the pace of planning”. Brands can’t move slowly when crises compound in days and competitors respond to cultural signals in real time.buzzincontent+4

When Quarterly Planning Meets TikTok Speed
This creates what one brand strategist calls the “metabolism problem”: companies are built for quarterly planning cycles, but culture moves at TikTok speed. The gap between what brands promise and what they deliver, between the values they signal and the operations they run, becomes visible instantly. And once visible, it’s almost impossible to walk back.[monigle]
I saw this play out in September 2025’s smartphone marketing chaos, where brands rushed to outpace each other with announcements—Motorola’s Swarovski-studded phones, Google’s aesthetic updates—prioritising spectacle over substance. The result? Campaigns that generated buzz but little lasting brand equity, because the metabolism of launch cycles had outpaced strategic coherence.[suchetanabauri]
Nike and SKIMS are not unique in this. They’re simply high-profile examples of a broader failure mode in contemporary marketing: the belief that aesthetic sophistication, cultural signalling, and celebrity reach can substitute for operational integrity and functional alignment between product, partner, and purpose.
“In 2026, the pace of culture has outstripped the pace of planning. Companies are built for quarterly planning cycles, but culture moves at TikTok speed.”
What the Campaign Really Reveals
The NikeSKIMS Spring ’26 campaign is gorgeous. It will sell leggings. LISA’s performance is compelling. But none of this addresses the structural problems it inadvertently showcases—the extractive relationship with ballet culture, the ethical void at SKIMS, the mismatch between Nike’s stated athlete-first strategy and its celebrity-led execution, the broader erosion of trust in endorsements that feel more transactional than genuine.
What This Means for Your Next Campaign
If you’re planning celebrity partnerships in 2026, here’s the uncomfortable audit you need to run:
Five Questions Before You Sign
- Does this person actually use the product category? Not “could they plausibly use it for a photoshoot,” but do they have a functional relationship with what you’re selling? When you’re selling running shoes, is this person a runner? For skincare, do they have documented expertise or passion for the category? Transactional partnerships are increasingly easy to spot and increasingly ineffective.[postaffiliatepro]
- Can you show, not just say, that your values are operational? When your campaign language includes empowerment, sustainability, community, or any other values-laden term, can you point to specific, verifiable practices that embody those values? Gen Z will research you after purchase, and they’ll find the gaps between rhetoric and reality. Better that you close them before launch than defend them in a comment thread.[wearebrain]
- Have you borrowed cultural capital without giving back? When your aesthetic draws from a specific community—dancers, skaters, musicians, artisans—have you partnered with that community in meaningful ways, or are you simply extracting their credibility? The difference matters, both ethically and strategically. This is the distinction between Google’s DigiKavach campaign, which authentically embedded itself in Indian fraud-prevention culture, and Maybelline’s Mumbai stunt, which felt disconnected from local realities.[suchetanabauri]
- Are you measuring the metrics that predict revenue? Reach and impressions are losing relevance. Trust scores, sentiment-to-revenue correlation, response time, and community endorsement are the indicators that drive purchasing decisions in an environment where AI systems and peer recommendations shape discovery. Dashboards that don’t track these are optimising for the wrong outcomes.sprinklr+2
- Could a micro-influencer deliver better results for less cost? For most campaign objectives below mass-market awareness, the answer is probably yes. Higher engagement rates, more credible authenticity, demonstrably better ROI. Celebrity partnerships make sense when you need scale and your budget supports it. But they’re no longer the default answer to “how do we reach our audience.”jmsr-online+1
The Reckoning
Authenticity in 2026 isn’t a marketing tactic. It’s an operating requirement. The gap between what brands signal and what they do has become impossible to hide, and audiences—particularly Gen Z, but increasingly all demographics—have developed sophisticated filters for manufactured sincerity.
“Celebrity endorsements worked for decades because they offered a shortcut: borrow the fame, transfer the credibility, move the product. That formula assumed audiences couldn’t easily verify whether the partnership made functional sense. Both assumptions are now obsolete.”
Celebrity endorsements worked for decades because they offered a shortcut: borrow the fame, transfer the credibility, move the product. That formula assumed audiences trusted celebrity judgment and couldn’t easily verify whether the partnership made functional sense. Both assumptions are now obsolete.
What Breaks When Signals Diverge From Reality
The NikeSKIMS campaign is polished, expensive, and strategically incoherent. It borrows ballet’s cultural prestige without supporting dancers. It centres a celebrity in a campaign ostensibly about performance whilst Nike’s turnaround messaging emphasises athletes. Wrapping empowerment language around products made under opaque labour conditions, it does all of this at a moment when trust is the scarcest resource in marketing and audiences can spot these contradictions instantly.
None of this makes Nike or SKIMS uniquely villainous. Rather, they’re representative of a marketing playbook that no longer functions in an environment where authenticity is operationally verifiable, not rhetorically performed—much like what I observed in Anthropic’s Claude campaign, where restraint and genuine positioning created more trust than feature-shouting ever could.[suchetanabauri]
The Real Question Facing Marketers
The question for marketers isn’t whether celebrity endorsements can still work. In narrow contexts, with genuine alignment and credible partnerships, they can. What matters is whether you’re willing to run the audit that determines if your celebrity partnership makes functional sense, aligns with what your brand actually does, and will survive scrutiny from audiences who trust peer recommendations more than polished campaigns.
Because if the answer is no, you’re not building brand equity. You’re just borrowing it. And in 2026, audiences can tell the difference.
Sources:
- Audiences Don’t Trust What They See—Marketing Must Change in 2026 – Forbes
- 2026 trends forcing brands to prove they’re human – Monigle
- Explained: Why Iranians Started The ‘Boycott Huda Beauty’ Trend – NDTV
- Creators lead boycott call against Huda Beauty – BuzzinContent
- What is Boycott Huda Beauty trend – Economic Times
- Marketing Trends 2026: AI, GEO, & Expert Predictions – Onclusive
- Micro-Influencers vs Celebrities: Which Strategy Drives Results – Post Affiliate Pro
- The Power of Micro-Influencers: Rethinking Digital Marketing ROI – JMSR
- Celebrity Endorsement Fails: Campaigns That Backfired – Taboola
- Examining the Impact of Celebrity Endorsements on Brand Awareness – MBA Journals
- From SRK to Dhoni, Male Celebrities Dominate as Celebrity-Led TV Ad Volumes Dip in 2025 – Media News 4U
- A Look Forward to 2026, Part 1: Why Authenticity and Agents Rule – LinkedIn
- Brand Trust Signals in 2026 – LinkedIn
- Gen Z Marketing Trends – Futurists Speakers
- Brand Monitoring 2026: A Modern Guide – Sprinklr
- Trust, Tech, and Communities: Gen Z Brand Playbook 2026 – Pulp Strategy
- How we adapted our marketing strategies for Gen Z in 2026 – We Are Brain
- Influencer Marketing ROI: Separating Fact from Fiction – LinkedIn
